SIA MCKYE OVER COFFEE

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Friday, March 25, 2016

Hey, Kat Sheridan here, stealing Sia’s blog for the day.
Well, not really “stealing”. It’s for a good

cause.

Regular readers of Over Coffee know the reason the blog is a
bit dusty and cob-webby right now is because Sia McKye is dealing with breast
cancer and the kill-you-to-cure-you nastiness of chemotherapy. That stuff will
knock the pins out from under even the strongest person (and Sia is one of the
strongest, most unrelentingly optimistic people I know!)

Cancer treatments have a lot of nasty side effects. And one
of the nastiest is the over-the-moon high costs of treatment. Sia has shared
some numbers with me, and I’m pretty sure we could get a beach house on Waikiki
and a couple of zippy convertibles for what this costs. Sia has great
insurance, but it doesn’t pay for everything. She has one more chemo treatment
to go. A month of radiation (one a day, 5 days a week, for a month). A year of Herceptin
(every three weeks until November). Here’s what she told me about her share so far: “I could build a finished
(electricity & insulated) attached two bay garage and a new barn with my share.”

In spite of all this, Sia continues to read and post reviews
on Facebook when she’s feeling well enough (and sometimes when she’s not). Sia
has been a good friend to authors and bloggers from the very beginning,
generous with reviews and space here on her blog. She’s paid it forward.

Now it’s time for us to pay it back.

Mutual good friend and angel-in-disguise Wendy Christy
started a GoFundMe account for Sia. Yes, I’m hitting you up for something, but
not necessarily money (although money would be AWESOME!) Here’s the link to Sia’s
account: https://www.gofundme.com/ddnxhu8k
. As you can see, she has a long way to go to make the goal.

We ALL want Sia well and back to her sassy self, right here
on this blog. Here are some ways you can help (and most of them are free!)

Donate to her GoFundMe account. It doesn’t have to be a lot.
The price of a cup of coffee. Maybe a day or a week’s profit from a book Sia
featured on her blog for you. Don’t let the bigger donations already there
intimidate you. $5 counts as much as $500.

I know many of you are bloggers with popular blogs. If you
have the time, space, or inclination, please mention this GoFundMe on your own blogs.
Spread the word on Facebook, Twitter, wherever you hang out in the cyberworld.

This one is the most important: In the comments below, offer
an encouraging word to Sia. Tell her how she made a difference to you. She’s
having a super rough time right now. And while you’re at it, offer a kind word
to her husband, Dan, and her son, Jake, who have been awesome, amazing
caretakers. I think the most comments she’s had on a blog post is around 70. Can
we top that?

BONUS BONUS BONUS

Some of you know I write back cover copy/product descriptions for authors at my web site, BlurbCopy (http://blurbcopy.com/) From now until April 30th, 2016, if you sign up for a blurb and mention Sia in the Additional Info section of the work order, I'll give you a $5 discount (normally $35, so it will only be $30) ANDI'll make a $5 donation to the GoFundMe account.Work orders must be submitted by no later than April 30th.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Today Over Coffee welcomes debut novelist Oberon Wonch. With
the “feasting season” beginning, I asked Oberon to talk about something
food-related from her medieval romance, Come to Me. Take it away, Oberon!

Hello, Sia! Thank you for hosting me here today. I enjoy catching up on
your blog
and love to linger

over your posts of life in the Ozarks, especially the photos of landscapes and
wildlife, some of my favorite things to get lost in on the Internet.

So, it’s not surprising that bees and beekeeping fascinate
me,
too.
Anyone else? I love the imagery of the old-timey wicker skep sitting in a
garden. Since
the heroine of my first book, Come To Me, is an English noblewoman living in 11
th century England, and we knowfrom writings of the time that mead (fermented honey) was a widespread favorite of the Germanic and Scandinavian peoples
of post-Roman Europe, I wanted to include beekeeping and mead-making in my story.

Here is a fraction of what I learned about bee husbandry.8,000-year-old cave paintings show that honey-gathering has been taking place since
pre-historic times when people risked life and limb to climb trees and rob wild hives of the sweet, gooey liquid. Ancient Sumerian, Greek, and Chinese writings
discuss managing bees and providing adequate, manmade habitats. Bee culturebecame supremely
important to the Egyptians, was adopted by Rome, andthen spread through all of Europe.

Even back to our earliest days, we wanted a little
sweetener in our cuisine and went to great lengths to procure it, isn’t that something?

By the time of the Norman conquest of England in late 11th century AD, beekeeping was an indispensable industry. An Anglo-Saxon
noblewoman’s responsibilities included keeping bees (in those lovely, conical straw or wicker
baskets called skeps), extracting honey and beeswax, and overseeing mead production.

The entire arc of beekeeping, from capturing a swarm, to monitoring hives
through the summer, to harvesting the honey and comb in the autumn, is a world of
information too broad to address here.

However, making the mead was incredibly simple and a tribute to the thriftiness of the medieval
housekeeper. Throughout the warm months as honey was gathered, comb was squeezed
through
linen
gauze to extract the last drop of honey for household purposes. The comb and the gauze were rinsed with water (the comb then rendered for its wax to
make candles), and the water was left in covered vats to ferment via the natural yeasts existing in the honey and surrounding air.

Variations in this process were practiced (for example, herbs and spices were added for
flavor),
and later written recipes called forboiling 4-to-1 parts water and honey rather than merely
using the strainings.

So, that’s my little peek into one tiny aspect of
life in the Middle Ages.

Are you as fascinated by bees and beekeeping as I am? Would you like to someday
try mead made in true medieval fashion?

In this twist on the classic Cyrano story, Bridget of Shyleburgh is ordered to help CountGrégoireFitzHenri, the new Earl of Shyleburgh and the man she secretly
loves, court another woman.

Mortified at first, Bridget soon finds herself completely
enthralled by the earl’s whispers of love and desire. His heated wooing tempts a fair maiden to stray
down a path filled with forbidden pleasures.But his words are meant for another… aren’t they? Read More at Amazon

Oberon Wonch has engaged in a love affair with books for as
long as she can remember. Penning her own stories from an early age, she later
earned a degree in World Literature while studying several languages--all in
order to learn what makes a tale endure the ages, but really just to read more
books. Her very favorite stories--both to read and write--are those that
celebrate the happily-ever-after. She enjoys connecting with readers. Contact
her through her website at www.oberonwonch.com or follow her on Twitter @OberonWonch and on Facebook.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Oh,
I don’t mean treatments, perse, but everything that comes with it. I get tired
of thinking about it; planning or delaying my life because of it. Then there
are my own fears and worries that creep in at odd times and bite deep. I’ve
always been independent and while I can delegate I hate losing my independence
due to lack of strength. I dislike the worry about getting to and from
appointments if I unable to drive, of being a burden, or looking at and arranging
finances.

Then
there is dealing with people.

There
are those that care and always try to be encouraging, in spite of what’s going
on in their life; those that still want to have real conversations or share
laughter and I appreciate them. Seriously these people, and not just close
friends and family, make life good.

But, then... there are those that haven’t a
clue what to say or how to react or interact with me. They treat me as if the
cancer zombiefied my brain and its broken or not working. You know, that over
bright tone of voice one uses with a toddler or someone who is at death’s door.
I am neither.

Or that I’m some drama queen looking for the spotlight.

Seriously? Who the hell would choose
something as dangerous as cancer, which can go either way, for attention? I’d
rather being doing anything but facing this. Then there are who just want to
avoid me as if this cancer thing is catching, like cooties or the ‘flu.

The
funny thing is I do understand people and the whys and hows of how they think.
I do try to be patient and understanding but it does get wearying to the soul
and I’m not even half way through my treatments. There are times I have little
or no patience because I’m trying to deal with what’s insideme right now. I don’t have the energy to
deal with others’…problems or attitudes. I fight hard, at times, to hold on to
my patience and not rip into someone or have to call my brothers to help
dispose of a body. Not a good thing. I don’t like me when I get that way.

I guess what's most frustrating in none of this is a quick fix. By that I mean nothing is going to get me through the next 3 months of radiation and chemo easy or fast--- or the 9 months beyond that with the final chemical phase of treatment. Each treatment is a necessary evil but it isn't going to make me feel better. Considering my reaction to most chemicals and meds, I suspect I'm going to be feeling like crap. I won't kid you, it all gets to me. The anticipation of what's coming...the unknown. Yeah, it gets to me on many levels.

I've spent considerable time, the past few months, at a hospital that deal exclusively with all sorts of cancer patients. I'm a natural people watcher and the story that peoples' faces tell...it's an eye opener. Sometimes it lifts you up and other times it breaks your heart.

The sights I've seen and the stories I've heard from people fighting this war...my God. It tends to put things into perspective when I'm facing my own fears and worries.

So, when things get...frustrating or I get a bit down, I give myself a swift kick mentally and say, "Suck it up Buttercup! There are people with this same disease that would LOVE to be standing where you are now."

No matter what's going on in my life, I CAN'T lose sight of the long term. If everything goes right I get to live.

Monday, November 16, 2015

As you can imagine I’ve had quite a bit of
time to read the past few months and given my journey, fighting for my life and
healing, I tend to look for things that make me laugh or inspire me. I want to
share my thoughts of a very good book I read just this past week.

I’m not one who reads a great many
biographies or autobiographies. I’m very selective. It depends upon who is
being written about and if they’re interesting to me. I am fascinated by historical memoirs—journals and letters outlining
tales of success in the face of adversity.

I’m not big on modern day ‘memoirs’.

Let me tell you, this story was
interesting enough to keep me engrossed and turning the pages.

Revival is modern memoir but it is all about facing adversity and
triumphing despite misfortune (my favorite theme). It’s inspiring in many ways.
It tells a story of a very talented man, Donald Brazwell, well viewed by
professionals in his field, on the cusp of taking center stage in the international
music world of opera and then, through unexpected circumstances, crashes almost
into oblivion. A man who loses both his speaking and singing voice.

You could
call this a living nightmare.

But, the interesting thing is he doesn’t stay
down or become bitter whining oh ‘woe is me’, or turn to drugs or alcohol. He
learns that the sum total of life is more than one facet of it—singing. In
fact, he learns much about living and himself. He has a loving wife and three children.
He has a choice before him, being the best husband, father, and provider or
makes excuses why he can’t deal with it all. And many with his circumstances have
done just that. Instead he triumphs over adversity.

He faces so many
changes because his life has completely changed course and still he keeps his
eyes open to opportunities before him for making a good life for him and his
family despite those changes. What I admire was his willingness to try new
things, learn new skills so he could support his family. Yet I could see it
wasn’t easy for him. When I realize Braswell had spent well over ten years in dedicated study and totally focused on
his goal of becoming a world class tenor on par (probably surpassing) with
Pavarotti and Placido, with no thought to doing anything but that career I
appreciate his choices even more. I admire his willingness to shift his focus. He may
have been afraid of failure and not making the grade but self doubt didn’t stop
him from going forward and building a life for him and his family. I respect
person who can do that.

This story isn’t
about a saint. He railed, felt fear, wallowed a bit in self pity and felt lost.
Donald Braswell wasn’t the epitome of arrogance but he did know his worth in
the music world—he would have to if he wanted to become the great tenor he was
on his way to be. He does admit his ego had gotten the best of him at times and
in believing his own press. He also stresses he didn’t give thanks or enough
respect to God for the gift given him.

The writing of his
story is well done. The author has an excellent story telling ability and makes
you want to keep turning the pages to see what happens next. In good story
telling fashion the main character is flawed, faces hard times as a result of
his choices, faces a black moment, and yet has much to learn about life. There
is a clear character arc of growth. You find yourself cheering on the ‘hero’ of
the story. There is a clear picture of the secondary characters, Julie and the
Cavender brothers—I got such a clear picture of those two and love them. The delivery
is so well done that I forgot, at times, that it was about a real person. To
see Donald Braswell rising like phoenix to triumph is both heartwarming and inspirational.

Monday, November 9, 2015

I’ve learned much, the past couple of
months, about the battle against cancer.

For one thing, it’s not a battle, it’s a war and wars are won by
winning a series of battles.

Mobilizing for war is arduous especially
while defending against an unexpected attack. It takes clear thought to the
goals and what will be lost if one doesn’t win. There’s the cost of fighting a
war, mentally, physically, psychologically and monetarily. One leaves behind ‘normal’ life and has to
focus everything on fighting and winning the war. It becomes the daily
existence. One has to channel funds into getting the best weapons and equipment,
assembling a strong motivated fighting force, and have a good knowledge base of
the enemy and its goals. Not an easy task. The initial euphoria after an attack
often wears thin and so keeping the reasons and goals for fighting the war to
begin with, needs to be kept to the forefront of everyone’s mind. Then it’s
hunkering down for the long haul and fighting to win.

Somewhere along the line I lost sight of
parts of that mobilization process. I was unexpectedly attacked and I mustered
up what was needed initially. Mindset, support group, funds to deal with travel
and tests. I was armed but it was only the first of the battles that needed to
be faced and although there were skirmish victories my mind lost sight of the
long haul. And it’s daunting.

I think one of the problems is I’ve had several
surgeries in my life. Usually, after a surgery for a particular thing, the mind
then faces the healing process (like rebuilding after a war). In this instance,
the removal of the tumor was successful. Pathology indicated that all was clean
in the breast. Lymph nodes all clear. My mind leaped right past the concept of
war and focused on the battle won and onto healing...wrong. It was only the
initial battle. Yes, I won that series of battles but the war was by no means
won.

This trip to CTCA was very intense. I had a
list of questions and one of those questions had to do with further treatment.
See, everything was healing. Pathology showed all clear, so why did I need
chemo or herceptin? I brought my page of questions forward and got back several
pages of answers and much more information for the war beyond this initial
series of battles.

We went back to the preliminary findings
and again defined the cancer I’m facing—Her2 positive, grade II, stage II—highly
invasive and consequently fast growing and with a penchant for stray cells to
migrate to other places and basically homestead. Without proper treatment this
cancer will come back and even more
aggressive than it was initially. I was given a clearer picture of what it
takes to conquer this particular type of cancer and what weapons I will need to
win the war.

Scary stuff.

Countries gearing up for war can divert resources
from existing assets and/or increase taxes to fund it. I have no one to tax and
only a limited amount of funds to divert and yet there is no question that if I
want to live and win this war, I have to go forward. On the plus side I do have
very good insurance. On the negative side the co-pays are going to hurt
financially. Then there is travel, daily food, and lodging that must be taken
care of over the next eighteen months. This war is going to be expensive.

Just like soldiers and civilians in a war,
I want normal life back. Well, that’s not going to happen for awhile. There is
much in between the victory in these initial battles and eradicating the threat
and demolishing the enemy. All the wishing in the world isn’t going to make
this cancer go away as quickly as I want it to.

All I can do is have courage and move
forward, keep my spirits up, and focus on demolishing the enemy. To do that I
have to hunker down for the long haul.

Monday, October 26, 2015

The
Missouri Ozarks are amazing regardless of the season. We span 3 temperature
ranges which spell some different weather patterns for us throughout the year
and even more so in the fall. While September spells autumn for many in other
areas of the country, September is still ‘summer’ for us. The light is waning
but the daily temps are still in the upper 80s to mid 90s (by contrast, July
and August are traditionally upper 90s to a little over 100) and the grass is
still lush and green and we’re still mowing the lawn weekly. We’re still
running the AC daily. The rivers and lakes are still warm enough to swim in
despite Labor Day closures of the pools the rivers still have plenty of
swimmers. But the temperatures are dropping and we are losing daylight.

Purples and pinks-Ceil Abbott

By the
latter part of September, the walnut trees start coloring up in their yellow fall
finery. They are the first to lose their leaves. The last week in September and
first week in October is when many of the vines, shrubs, berry plants and
under story trees start showing signs of fall color. My area is home to over 200
plant species and most display fall colors. An Ozark foliage turn doesn't happen as quickly as the color change in northern states. Here, in the Ozarks, we have two color peaks in the foliage.

There is the false peak which
usually happens between October 14-20th. False Peak is when you see the most intense color and the widest range of colors you'll see scarlet, deep mahogany, purple, black, blue, and multiple shades of gold. We have what you would call a 'slow turn' in foliage. It usually starts in the river and creek bottoms and then progresses up the hills. By the time peak color appears on the hillsides most of the trees along the rivers wil have long since peaked and dropped their leaves.

True peak will always occur during the last few days of October and the first few days of November, typically from October 26 to November 5th, give or take a few days. Peak foliage is highly dependent upon weather conditions. It takes clear sunny days with temperatures no warmer than mid 60's, and cooler nights with temperatures no higher than the high 30's to mid 4'0s, with a few nights in the 50's. This year true peak is a bit slow because it's been warmer during the day which delays the turn a few days. True peak colors are limited to the oranges, yellows, and mahogany hues. We have 36 species of oak here and each group had their own time table for turning and variations of colors.

The
weather is giving its last hurrah before the onset of the cold here in South
Central Missouri.The days are very warm
and sunny and the nights are jacket cool. Other than the trees we do have several
more, not so pleasant, ‘signs’ of the coming cold weather. The wasps are
invading my Mums and basking on the western side of the house. Nasty things. Another
is the Woolly Bear caterpillars which are crawling everywhere—on the patio, up
the sides of the house, on trees and shrubs, and in the yard. Weather is still
warm so I’m usually barefoot and though I try to avoid them there are so many
that I can’t help but step on some. Ewww.

Then
there are the Asian lady bugs. They’re wonderful for taking care of aphids and
such in the summer gardens but mid-October they start swarming and looking for
a warm place to winter and that usually is inside my house or swimming in my coffee cup. Ugh. And they bite.
I was lying down resting in the bedroom yesterday and happen to glance up to
the ceiling. I counted 20 above my head. I decided to go rest in the recliner
in living room. Dan cleared them out of the bedroom and he’s done this for several
days, so I can sleep. Last thing I wanted was falling lady bugs. Did I mention
they can bite?

While the Missouri Ozarks are gorgeous in the autumn when
it comes to signs of fall and winter there are some I love and some I don’t.
I’m not particularly squeamish when it comes to insects, except maybe ants, but
I have to say I much prefer the fall foliage, migrating birds, and the changing of the angle of the sun and all the richness of light and shadow, to swarming
insects looking at my house as their winter paradise.